Just Friends
by pinkminx
Summary: RE-READ A MUST! Eventually follows Daria to college in chapt 4 , please tell me what you think- yes this is my shameless shipper fic, EDITED. Chapter 14 now up
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

She stood atop of the large old building and watched the city below.

The busy street was illuminated by passing cars, neon shop signs and the occasional burst of color from the clubs lasers that spilled out into the night. The hypnotic, droning hum of the club's sign was silenced by the steady bass that permeated from beneath. It was well past 2a.m; the band had bowed out, the D.J had taken the stage on the lower floor and conducted the crowd within. A vision of the thrashing sweaty limbs to the synthesized melody flashed through her mind. The song itself was indecipherable from her position and she relied on the moments of musical clarity when the doors were opened and the punters spewed out onto the street. She glanced down at the latest group to exit; an intoxicated group of college students began to stagger into town.

She raised her head to the sky, she would never care to admit it; she missed many things from her home town, but the one that left her the saddest was the inability to gaze upon the bountiful, dark heavens to catch a glimpse of an elusive shooting star.  
She sighed heavily and drained the remainder of her Corona and tossed the empty bottle in the makeshift bin beside her. It hit the bottom of the can with a hollow thunk; a sound that signified its solitude.  
She turned and sat against the roof's edge.

_What have I done?_

********************

Daria sat next to Jane in the school's auditorium; it was the informal graduation assembly. Organised by the freshman years and co-ordinated by the Fashion Club, Daria had little doubt in her mind that this was going to be a complete waste of time. A majority of the the senior graduating class of Lawndale High had been involved in an 'altercation' with their rival school. The students were detained for several hours for vandalism, destruction of property and defiling of the school's cherished mascot. As punishment the senior prom had been cancelled and the formal assembly deferred indefinitely with the offending students facing expulsion.

An uprising from the student body ensued; wealthy parents backed their children; many of who were generous contributors to the school. Ms Li was forced to initiate a compromise; a prom was to be organised off campus without school involvement and the students were to give an informal assembly with graduation papers to be posted.

So far the compromise of the assembly consisted of a few in house jokes with the popular crowd and an hour long speech of the upcoming fall's fashions. Daria groaned inwardly as she slid deeper down into the moulded hard plastic chair. She grabbed Jane's wrist and glanced at her watch.

_Half an hour to go_

The room darkened and a large white projection sheet unfurled over the heavy red velvet curtain behind the four girls on stage.

"And now for a bit of fun." Sandi's bored voice echoed through the expansive room.

"We surveyed the school asking who you thought were the most memorable, gifted, beautiful people; this only applies to the graduating class folks- so all those votes for me were void." Quinn giggled "So without further ado. The biggest achiever, Jodie Landon." The Fashion Club applauded as a large yearbook photo was projected onto the screen behind them. "Jodie has achieved great success the past few years and has immersed herself in high school life; having been made president of like, a heap of extracurricular groups including....."

Daria closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the chair.

_Maybe I can catch up on a little shut eye. _Daria mused as she felt Jane do the same beside her. Daria managed quite successfully to block out the whiny drone of her sister's voice, as it continued down the list.

"And finally most clichéd; Daria Morgendorffer, original ice queen a friendless bookworm." Sandi's spiteful tongue brought Daria out of her slump. She cautiously sat upright in her chair as she listened; unable to intervene.

"In a school of Jocks, Cheerleaders, Beauty queens, Sluts, Emos and Geeks, Daria has been voted by her peers as the biggest cliché." She finished with a throaty hack of a laugh and sneered to the audience before regaining her composure.

Daria had fled the darkened hall and rushed down the empty corridor, unable to bear witness to the remainder of the scathing review.

A large knot began to grow in her stomach; slowly it clawed its way to her throat. She swallowed hard in a bid to abate it, however her body had betrayed her; her mouth was dry and the knot rose slowly. Her face throbbed as the anger pulsed through her veins; it burned like battery acid, her hands shook and her jaw clenched, before her clouded brain had time to register what she was doing she was running.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2******************************************************************************************************************

Her heavy, black combat boots pounded against the pavement, her body had responded with the primitive fight or flight reaction and she found herself powerless to stop. It felt good. Her lungs burned as she gasped for air and her sides ached with every step, each one sent a near debilitating shock through her abdomen and for once her mind was empty.  
She finally succumbed to her muscles pleas to stop; she leaned forward and braced herself against her knees, as she gasped for much needed air. Adrenaline still surged through her; she could feel her arms shake involuntary and her skin had broken out in a light sweat. An ethereal breeze lapped at her exposed skin; it sent a cool shiver down her spine. As she let her head hang, she felt the rim of her glasses slip from her nose and watched as they fell to the ground with a light clink.

"Daria?"

Daria gasped at the realisation she was no longer alone; she felt her body tense. As the shock subsided, she slowly straightened and tossed her head back; her mass of auburn hair followed and fell around her face. She turned to the voice, as stepped forward she winced as she heard the sound of the fragile glass crunch beneath her boot.

"Damn it," She bent down and retrieved the mangled mess that was her glasses. She looked up and acknowledged the voice that had startled her out of her stupor. "Hey Trent."

Trent had seen the unmistakable form of Daria hunched over on the sidewalk; he watched as she straightened and turned toward him.

Daria's face had taken on an uncharacteristically healthy glow; the apples of her checks flushed a light, rosy pink, her voice was unsteady; he guessed she was still trying to recover her breath. He diverted his gaze to her right hand, which held the remains of her signature glasses and smiled sympathetically.

"You okay, need a ride anywhere?"

Daria sighed defeated and nodded slightly; without the aid of her glasses, finding her way home would be near impossible. She walked around to the passenger side of Trent's car and slid into shotgun as Trent pulled away from the curb.

A silence befell them as they drove through the streets of Lawndale; Trent knew better than to pressure Daria into talking about what troubled her. She would confide in him if she deemed it appropriate, although that was a job generally left to his sister and he didn't expect her to open up. It was a surprise to both of them when Daria turned to face Trent and boldly began.

"Do you think I'm a cliché?" she continued before he had a chance to respond. "I've spent most of my life devoting myself to my studies, staying out of social events and not bowing to the pressures of teen society's idealism's of what and who a teenager should be or do. I don't act a certain way because that is what is expected of me and I don't care what people think of me." she paused and drew a long breath, in a bid to calm herself before she got too worked up.

Trent sat dumbstruck; he pulled the car over to the kerb and let it drift to a halt before turning to Daria. He met her eyes and searched for the cause of this self doubt. Daria had always been so strong and seemingly uncaring of how people perceived her; it had never occurred to him that she really was a normal teenage girl, on the cusp of adulthood; struggling to find who she was. He assumed she knew who she was, that she didn't take into consideration people's reception of her. He considered her words and began slowly.

"Maybe you do; you're only human. You withdraw yourself from society's norm because you don't want people to have high expectations of you. Expectations lead to hope and inevitably that leads to let down and failure." He paused and studied her reactions; so far she had turned her gaze to the front of the car and seemed to find the dash quite intriguing, but showed no signs of wanting him to stop; so he mentally braced himself as he continued. "You have built up this wall around yourself, a facade of sorts. You don't seem to let many people into your world, give people a chance to really get to know you. Maybe you do dress or act a certain way, in a bid at deflecting attention from yourself; so you're not labelled a certain way. Looks like you have inadvertently pigeon-holed yourself into a certain stereotype anyway."

Daria sat quietly as she absorbed Trent's words. He had taken a risk in telling her what he really thought; and he was right. She was stunned at his articulation and forwardness. He had had these conversations with her before and had surprised her on those occasions too.

"Since when did you become so wise? So observant."

Trent smiled. "We're all hiding beneath a facade, everyone's a cliché of sorts; it's just being happy with in yourself that's the key. Look at me; a walking, talking cliché of a slacker musician, but I'm happy with that, no one expects me to be insightful or smart. But I have the opportunity to rebut people's preconceived notions of me." He gazed at Daria once more with a solemn look on his face. "Are you happy? Being you? Just remember you can change at any time; do what you want when you want to, as long as it makes you happy" he finished.

***

Daria sat at the end of her bed and stared blankly at her laptop; an empty document page sat opened on the screen, the cursor flashed idly against the blare of the white background.  
She had attempted to bring herself to write something; she had always found solace in converting her thoughts and emotions into literary form, however her attempts had been fruitless. Daria sighed and shut the computer; she placed it on the floor beside the bed and gazed around her room.

She was due to leave in little more that a month's time for Boston and had begun the harrowing task of boxing her possessions in preparation for the transition. She looked in the box closest to her and eyed its contents; stationary items mainly as well as an assortment of empty leather-bound journals- a gift from her well meaning father "in case of writers block" he had announced when she had unwrapped the thoughtful albeit useless gift. She only ever wrote on her computer; she found the hum of the machine soothed her, however today it failed to work its magic.

After the mornings events she wasn't able to concentrate on much else and was desperate for release. She absentmindedly raised her hands to adjust her glasses, she failed to remember that she had demolished her only pair hours earlier and was forced to resort to wearing her contacts.  
She sighed and leaned forward and began to rummage through the box she had examined earlier. She retrieved a thick black notebook and a pen. She ran her hand across the front cover as she fingered the spine before she carefully opened it and flipped it upside down and back to front. She smoothed the back page flat and the pen nib hovered above the paper.

The words flowed freely. The change of medium excited her, the words were less like her previous writings; they were real, brutal and honest. After an hour she flicked through her work near ten pages filled back and front.  
Her new composition was a sociological study of sorts; she investigated the cause for her concerns, it drew on her experiences of her last few years in Lawndale. From her own world behind her dark rimmed glasses through to the fashion club she found relief as she investigated her persona from the view of others. Satisfied for now, she closed the book and returned it to the box from which she has selected it; just in time to here the wail of her mother bounce through the house as it summoned her to the front door.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3******************************************************************************************************************

_"You promised. You owe me"_

The words echoed in her head as Daria waited for the haze to clear. She opened her eyes as she sat up in bed and immediately regretted it. The room lurched and swayed, the dim light that penetrated through the small slit in the curtain was blinding, and her senses were on over drive. The slightest movement turned her stomach and sent shock waves through her head.  
Daria groaned, as she carefully slumped back and brought the covers over her head. She laid still and willed the nauseous feelings in the pit of her stomach to subside, her recollection of the previous night was sketchy at best and she forced her brain to recall the events that had left her so debilitated.

_The room was obscured; much like a bathroom vanity mirror after a hot shower. She could hear the music, although it was muffled; it was as if she were listening to it while submerged underwater. Slowly as she concentrated the haze cleared and the introduction of indecipherable voices brought her to the realisation that she was in a crowded room. A clean guitar riff cut through her thoughts; it was the introduction to "Icebox Woman"._

"Daria, are you okay?" Jane's face came into view, inches from her own. "Snap out of it girl, you promised you were going to enjoy yourself, let loose break free from the shackles of high school Daria; Lawndale High students be damned. This is the last time we're going to have to face this bunch; Senior-Prom and all." She finished as she handed Daria a champagne flute; her umpteenth drink of the evening.

Daria couldn't believe she had actually been convinced to accompany Jane to the prom. The fact that Jane actually wanted to go rocked her a little more; the tried and tested, thin excuse to support Trent and the band wasn't cutting it; Jane actually wanted to be here.

_Jane had arrived at her front door earlier that day with the news that they were to be attending their prom, Jane had grabbed her arm and led her to Trent's car before she had time to argue. Jane had announced that weeks before, she had ventured into the attic in search of some art supplies and stumbled across an old sewing machine. Jane had then proceeded to design a few dresses; namely two prom dresses._

_The events of that morning shook Daria and she found herself still questioning what or who she was, prom attendee was not one of the things that crossed her mind. She didn't know why the spiteful evaluation had hit her so hard; she knew it was meant as a laugh, after hearing both Quinn and Jane's summaries of the other students' hers was quite mild in comparison, but she couldn't shake it._

_Daria had given in, she had indeed given Jane an I.O.U to be redeemed at any time no questions asked, so had no choice and had agreed to go.  
The dress Jane had made was quite good; as a second attempt it was downright spectacular, although it wasn't to Daria's taste. It was a black cocktail bandage dress that looked like it consisted of a single piece of black ribbon wrapped around her. It was quite figure hugging and showed a hint of cleavage, and ended an inch above her knee._

_The words rang through her head once again  
"You promised. You owe me"_

Daria turned her attention back to Jane and shook her head in a bid to bring herself back to reality, or what was passing for reality at the moment. She was still having trouble believing that someone's parents had actually fronted the cash to have an open bar at a high school graduation party, and she was imbibing her fair share, along with everybody else.

"Hey are you okay? You don't look too good." Jane's eyebrow arched. "Fitting a little too well?" she asked, as she motioned her head towards the champagne flute Daria was holding.

Daria stared ahead and watched as Mystic Spiral finished their first set and walked off stage, handing the spotlight over to Upchuck who stood to the far side behind a set of DJ decks. He carefully loaded the first record onto the decks and spun it with an overzealous force; the speakers were brought to life with a pop song Daria wasn't familiar with. She shook her head and glanced back at Jane

"Not yet, I'm in the final stages of the transition to normalcy though, the last stage requires fresh air." She replied dryly before grabbing a fresh glass of champagne and headed to the nearby balcony.

***

Daria stood at the far end of the balcony and glanced up at the clear dark sky, she closed her eyes and she allowed the cool breeze to engulf her. It seemed to alleviate some of the affects of the alcohol. She felt her body relax and didn't notice as her glass slipped from her hand and smashed to her left on the hard paved ground.

Daria let out a frustrated cry as she bent down to retrieve the broken shards of glass.

"Damn it." She winced as she felt the sharp edge slice the edge of her palm.

"Daria?"

Daria spun to where the voice came from, she squinted into the darkness as she attempted to make out the dark silhouette. "Tom? What are you doing here?"

Tom stepped out of the shadows and ran his fingers through his hair nervously, in the dim light he could just make out the crouched form that held her left hand. "Shit, are you okay? Did you cut yourself?" Tom swept down beside her and enveloped her hand in his.

Daria was speechless; the waves of intoxication that surged through her, combined with the dull throbbing pain from her hand and the surprise appearance from the last person she wanted to see had left her dumbstruck.

"Come on, I'm staying here; my mother's declared yet another interior decorating disaster, come up to my room and we'll get the first aid kit. It doesn't look too deep."

Daria allowed herself to be led up through the hotel's lobby and to the lift; it was a slow journey due to the constant tripping and stumbling. Once in the lift a long and awkward silence settled between them. Tom cleared his throat and asked slowly. "Are you drunk?" He arched his head down and attempted to catch Daria's eye.

Daria hung her head and focussed on a spot in the opposite corner; her only response was a small, stifled hiccup as the doors opened and they exited to his suite.

Tom had mended her hand best he could; it was a minor cut but the wound stubbornly refused to stop bleeding, he had clocked it up to the amount of alcohol she had consumed. He watched as she sat quietly on the large bed and peered around the room. Her body spasmed slightly at regular intervals as she suppressed hiccups. He smiled and joined her, he placed his hand onto her upper thigh and gazed into her eyes.

Daria looked down at Tom's hand and wished to God she was anywhere else, she was repulsed by his touch, sure they had broken up on good terms but she knew that this is who he wanted; dressed up Daria, a trophy girl who would shut her mouth and go with the flow.

"Daria, I never thought you were this beautiful, you're so normal."

"Excuse me?" Daria sat back and eyed Tom.

"You, embracing yourself and not caring what people think, doing what you want to do, being human."

"As opposed to a genetically modified cyborg, created deep within the bowels of an unnamed government agency?"

"Always with the wit, you're not as unapproachable or cynical as you think you are."

"And you're not as lust-worthy or charming as you think you are." Daria retorted quickly; her temper piqued.

_Typical I can't believe this, looks that's all he thinks about._

Tom had begun to lightly stroke her leg; she met his gaze and was greeted with a seducing smile.

As much as his touch repulsed her, it was matched equally with an unfamiliar feeling of raw, animalistic lust. She let her eyes drift over him and stood her ground when he moved in and his head arched forward. He lingered momentarily as he gauged her reaction then closed the small gap between them; their lips touched lightly at first then again with more force.  
Daria didn't allow a rational thought to enter her mind; her head and her heart were disconnected from her body, they were silenced by the alcohol. She was running on pure primitive urges and cheered on by hormones. She was in auto pilot, her body knew what to do, hands touched the right places and an obligatory moan was added when needed.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Daria sat bolt, upright in bed; the pain of the hangover blocked.

"Fuck, I slept with Tom. How could I be so, so..." Her brain searched for the appropriate word and was a little downcast when she found it. "Normal...Jane is so going to pay for this." she dead panned as she tried once more to remember the events that followed her deflowering in the hotel room.

_Tom's voice echoed in through her mind._

_  
"So this was a surprise huh? I think it's great..."_

_  
"But I don't think we should see each other again, the complications of the original break up still stand Tom, I'm sorry but this was a *huge* mistake. I have to go."_

The rest of the night was a blur; a multitude of questions raced through her mind.

_When did I leave the party, How did I get home, did I tell Jane about Tom- should I?_

She jumped out of bed and retrieved the book she had begun to write in the day before and opened to the last page. Her pen poised as she sat back on her bed and proceeded to record the night's events in her book. She sighed heavily when she was done and slumped wearily against the soft padded walls.

The phone rang.

"QUINN, PHONE."

The phone continued to ring and Daria glared at it.

"QUINN PHONE" she repeated; the phone rang for a third time and Daria groaned.

"Damn it." She grumbled as she reached forward and picked up the receiver.

"Quinn's not here." Daria began bluntly; she wasn't in the mood for social niceties this close to waking up, especially at, Daria glanced at the alarm clock next to her bed 1:30pm.

"Lucky you, Cinderella needs her beauty sleep." Jane's voice cooed over the line. "Missed you last night, Trent get you home before you turned back into a pumpkin?"

"Hey Jane," Daria greeted; thankful the caller hadn't been one of Quinn's cronies. "Wait Trent? Is that how I got home?"

"Yeah, you were pretty wasted last night, you don't remember?"

"Or choosing not to remember..." Daria muttered quietly. "Is Trent there, I need to talk to him." Daria asked uncomfortably.

She heard Jane continue but began to zone out, as she looked around the room and realised she had actually managed to change into her pyjamas. She hoped that she had been able to do that herself, Trent wouldn't have brought her all the way into her room and undressed her....  
She flushed slightly at the thought, and pushed it back into the depths of her mind, if anyone had helped her it would have been Quinn. When did she meet up with Trent?

_Maybe he could enlighten me on what happened?_

"...but I don't know if he's awake. TRENT!" Daria winced as Jane's voice cut through her thoughts and brang her attention back to the phone.

Daria heard the sound of muffled voices as the phone exchanged hands.

_Dammit Jane you better not be..._

"Hello?" Trent's voice purred lazily over the phone.

"Trent? Umm, hi it's Daria. Listen I need to talk to you about last night..." Daria began hesitantly.

Trent chuckled softly. "Hmmm you were pretty smashed." Daria could hear his smile as he spoke; he knew all too well how she felt.

"Yeah, I kind of need a debriefing. I don't exactly remember, well anything." Daria felt her face burn as she flushed red once again; she was embarrassed to say the least, terrified by what she may have revealed to Trent in her inebriated state.

"I'm not surprised; you were half way through a bottle of vodka when I found you."

"Found me? Oh god." Daria groaned as she smacked the heel of her palm to her forehead.

She heard Trent chuckle as he heard the light smack. "Listen, do you want to debrief over a pizza, my treat. Grease is the best thing for a hangover, trust me. I'll pick you up in half an hour?"

"Uh sure." Daria replied hesitantly.

"Cool."

Trent hung up the phone and walked to Jane's room and handed it back to her.

"Goin' out, back later." Trent called over his shoulder as he exited Jane's room.

Jane lifted the phone to her ear. "So what exactly _did_ happen last night with you and Trent....Hello? Daria?" Jane looked at the phone and tossed it onto her bed, as she raised an eyebrow and glanced suspiciously at the space in the door her brother had occupied moments earlier.

******

Trent and Daria sat opposite each other in a booth at 'Pizza King'. Daria had borrowed a pair of Quinn's over-sized fashionable sunglasses, and sat with her elbows on the yellow laminate table, her fingers massaged her temples as she eyed the slice of pizza in front of her.

"So you don't remember anything? Man I knew you were drunk but damn." he chuckled softly, sneaking a glance at her as he finished.

"I remember up to..." Daria paused, there was no way she was going to rehash the events of the previous night to Trent. She slouched back into the red faux-leather cushions of the booth they were seated at, keeping her gaze focussed on the pizza in front of her. "Umm til..."

"You shacked up with Tom?" He asked with a smile.

Daria straightened in her chair and removed the sunglasses, as she snapped her gaze toward Trent's. She eyed him suspiciously.

"Oh god, you know? What else happened? How did _you_ end up taking me home?"

"I found you lying on the hood of my car after the gig; when I was putting my guitar away, you were lucid enough, but..." Trent trailed off, a reminiscent smile ghosted his face as he looked up to meet Daria's gaze. Her brow furrowed with worry as she lightly bit the corner of her lip nervously. He smiled reassuringly as he continued. "It's okay; you didn't make an ass outta yourself."

Daria scoffed slightly and raised her eyebrows as she cut him off. "I got blind rotten drunk and foolishly partook in prom-night's long standing tradition of shacking up for a one night stand." She replied in her trademark dead pan voice, trying to mask the anxiety that had slowly overcome her.

"It happens, you're not the first and you won't be the last." Trent replied coolly.

"With my ex boyfriend no less."

"At least you knew him and it wasn't some guy you just met." Trent shrugged slightly.

"For my first time." Daria added quietly, as she diverted her gaze back to the half eaten pizza, she studied it as if it were the first slice she had ever seen.

Trent frowned and inhaled lightly; he considered his words carefully and continued tentatively. He knew Daria opening up like this was extremely rare; one wrong word and she would undoubtedly clam up.

"Everyone has...um...*relations* that they regret."

Daria glanced back up at Trent, a slight smile crept across her face; Trent's choice of words amused her, it reminded her of Quinn's incessant referral to her as a cousin. She shook her head to clear her thoughts.

"I don't regret it. I wanted to do it." she shrugged. "I just don't care to do it with Tom again. I know it sounds bad, I just did what I wanted to do; I didn't think or care for any consequences, and of course the copious amount of alcohol I ingested swayed my decision significantly."

"Breaking the mould? Testing the cliché?" He smiled, as he remembered their conversation from the day before.

"Something like that, life in that pigeon hole was a little uncomfortable." Daria smiled and felt the familiar warm sensation creep through her cheeks, as she blushed slightly.

They both chuckled and sat in a comfortable silence while they ate. Once finished Trent looked up at Daria and cleared his throat.

"It's gunna be weird not having you or Janie around after this week."

Daria looked at Trent with bemusement. "Jane's not leaving for Boston 'til next semester..."

Trent shook his head. "Nah she decided to move up there early, she's already got a place to stay. Didn't she tell you? Wind has an apartment in the middle of town, got it when he was dividing up the assets of his first marriage...or maybe his second...I don't know I can't keep up, anyway with us gone she didn't wanna hang around Lawndale by herself."

Daria leaned forward and looked at him suspiciously. "What do you mean by herself; where are _you_ going?"

"Huh, I guess you really don't remember much of last night. A guy staying at the hotel last night overheard us playing; he has an independent record label, wants to sign us. We leave for New York next week. Reckons grunge is having a huge come back and NY is a great backdrop to record our first album. It's small time but it's a start."

Daria smiled. "Congratulation, that's great, at least you won't be too far away either, only a couple of hours drive."

"It's gunna be strange not being able to see Janie and you whenever I want." he shook his head and smiled. "At least it's only for a six months; there was a tour mentioned pending reception of the album of course. Come on I'll take you home I'm sure you got a lot of stuff to do before you move, plus Janie's gunna get suss over where I've been."

The stood and exited the pizza parlour and made their way back to the car.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming to Boston early?" Daria paused, and looked up from the box on her lap, as she directed her attention Jane's open wardrobe.

"I did, I mentioned that I was thinking about heading up early to scope out the scene." Jane's muffled voice sounded from the wardrobe, as she threw a few empty bottles of turpentine across the room. "It's around here somewhere." she muttered to herself, as she stood and exited and gingerly stepped over the objects strewn across her floor.

"Yeah a mention of looking, not that you had secured a residential premises as your base of operations." Daria spoke into the box, as she riffled through its contents; she pulled out a battered, old manila folder and held it up. "Is this it?"

Jane vaulted her slim frame over the largest pile in the middle of the room and fetched the folder. She skimmed through the pages then dropped it, both girls watched as the loose sheets splayed onto the floor.

"Nah that's not it. I wanted to surprise you, if your roomie turned out to be a raving lunatic... or worse; a Quinn clone, it'd give you a place to escape."

"Or a place to stash the body, while we procured a vat of acid and a carpet steamer." Daria smirked.

"Speaking of hiding things... What did you and Trent have to say to each other that was so secretive that he had to haul ass to the pizza joint yesterday? Is there something you need to tell me, something involving a very drunk Daria and a broody, dark musician?" Jane raised an eyebrow, a suspicious glean flashed through her eyes. She watched for a change in Daria's demeanour, a hint; something that would betray her undoubtedly steady deadpanned voice.

Daria met Janes gaze and steadied herself.

_Should I tell her about Tom? It's none of her business, it won't affect her- Trent said he wouldn't say anything...._

"With Trent? No way, that smouldering, hot heap of emotional hormone-driven lust was extinguished long ago." Daria replied.

Jane shrugged, she didn't know what to expect; Daria was a master of concealment, she looked like she was telling the truth. "Just asking, seemed weird that Trent rushed out of here after your phone call, then came home muttering something about a breaking a cliché mould or pigeon hole or something."

Daria lowered her head and resumed her search through the box. She allowed a smile to ghost across her lips once they were out of view.

"Aha! Got it" Jane proclaimed triumphantly, as she stood up and held a yellowed piece of paper in her hand, high above her head. "The deed to the apartment."

"Great I'll give it to my mom so we can get everything organised officially; I'm still having trouble coming to terms at how easy all this was, I mean you have an apartment in the middle of Boston, central to everything." Daria paused and looked back at Jane. "What are you going to do with it while you are at BFAC for the first semester? Freshmen have to live on campus."

"Extra studio space; besides it depends how I go in the dorm lottery; if I pull a bad roomie, I can live at the dorms in name only, same applies to you I guess."

"Hmm, a secret base of operations to concoct our world domination plans...nice." Daria allowed a smirk to pull at the corners of her mouth.

"I can't believe it's finally happened; we're free. No more Lawndale, no parents." Jane pumped both of her hands in the air, as she fell back against the bed, she narrowly missed Daria.

They both looked at each other with mirrored expressions of uncharacteristic joy. "This is going to best a blast."

***

Daria opened the door to her new dorm room and took in her surroundings. A modest sized room with two king-single beds bolted down to the floor, on opposite sides of the room, two ancient desks with a bookshelf fitted above each of them, sat at the foot of the beds; also secured to the floor. In the middle of the room against the wall was a small kitchenette with a bar fridge and a low pantry cupboard.  
She eyed the left hand side of the room and noticed that it had already been claimed; she silently cursed her father for the bout of road rage, that had caused a two hour stop over at a small nondescript roadhouse to repair the spare tyre.

She dumped her bags on the empty bed and eyed her room mates belongings, her eyes rested on an over-sized vanity case and the arsenal of torturing devices that were essential for every fashionista's beauty regime.

"Great..."

Jane followed Daria to the room with the remainder of her belongings and cocked an eyebrow. "Hmm, I guess I'll be seeing you a lot more at Chateau de Jane than I expected."

"Yeah, I don't doubt that, come on we still have to get you settled." Daria replied, as she turned to the door.

***

Jane hesitantly slid the key into the lock and turned the handle, and slowly opened the door to the apartment. She didn't know what to expect; Wind had won the house in the settlement of his first marriage; a small time socialite with a daddy that held the majority shares in some major financing companies; to say they were well off was a massive understatement.

The two girls walked through the short hall into her new home. A top story, open-plan loft style apartment. Large windows took up the girth and most of the height of the side wall shedding light into the large living room that dominated the lower floor. Another short hall led to two large bedrooms and the bathroom. A floating wooden staircase granted access to the upper floor; to the large modern kitchen and dining-room with a third smaller bedroom on the other side. Jane stood against the railing of the upper floor and looked down onto the living room as a low whistle escaped her lips.

"Wow, I knew it was good but this is unbelievable. Hey there's a balcony out there." she pointed down to the French doors in the middle of the windowed wall.

"How did they afford this place?"

"Wind hit the jackpot alright, her old man was a regular Daddy Warbucks, bought the place our right for an engagement present."

"How did Wind end up with it? It stands to reason there would be a pre-nup involved if she was so well off." Daria questioned.

"Yeah, with an infidelity clause. Turns out its only client confidentiality if it's your psychologist." Jane said with a smug smile. "Wind found out and confronted her, she said she wanted things to end and started the divorce procedures." Jane paused, and shook her head. "Big mistake, the judge granted him this for suffrage. I still think he should have held out for the house in the Hampton's. "She chuckled slightly, and continued."Anyway, after everything was over and done, he couldn't come back here; he wallowed around Casa Lane for a few months before meeting Katie in the Do Dad's shop."

"Lucky break. Well for you at least." Daria turned to the stairs. "I better go relieve Dad and send him home, I have to go get settled in." She shuddered a little at the thought of her new roommate.

"Later Amiga, hey no maiming or murder til I pick up the bulk plastic wrap; no point ruining these hard wood floors." She smirked, and caught the flash of a smile across Daria's face as she descended the stairs.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"AHHHH!!!"

Daria awoke with a jolt; she opened her eyes and cringed as the piercing screech that permeated her blissful slumber continued.

"OH MY GOD!!! I got it AHHHH!"

Daria rolled in her bed, took her pillow from beneath her and put it over her head in a bid to reduce the severity of the noise; the plan however was foiled with the additional noise of the stereo.

"Jesus, Addison, do you know what freaking time it is? Shut the hell up!" Daria's muffled voice shouted from beneath her pillow, still positioned over her face.

"Ooops, I'm sorry Daria but I won tickets to the unearthed festival. The bidding time just ended damn twenty four hour eBay bidding times, I know it's early." Her roommate apologised and turned down the volume on the radio.

Daria sat up and glared at her roommate. Addison Maine.

Addison was an eighteen year old native of Boston, she had lived in the college town for the majority of her life with her serial divorcee mother and her much younger sister; a product from the latest divorce. She was slightly built and stood almost half a foot taller than Daria. On first impressions, Daria had come to a premature conclusion that Addison was yet another fashionable snob. To look at, Addison would be most male's wet dream fantasy girl; bright piercing green eyes set off by dark lashes. Her face was framed by her long mane of chocolate hair that cascaded in loose barrel curls. She had clear, olive skin and her body had modest curves in the right places; definitely someone the fashion club would consider a major threat. However on closer observation subtle things gave hints to her alternative streak; she had enough metal in her ears to rival both Trent and Jane, a small tattoo on the back of her neck of a Taurean symbol, everything that could be easily hid to suit her moods.

"Unearthed? Not the festival for unsigned bands?" Daria had vaguely remembered something being mentioned about the tour, in the last conversation she had had with Jane about Mystik Spiral. The last Daria had heard, their big break in New York hadn't been as successful as first planned; the band had actually managed to complete the recording for their first album however, trying to flog it off to the radio stations had been more work than they had bargained for.

"Yep, the line up hasn't been fully announced, there are still a few spots up for grabs so far it's..." Addie stared at the computer screen and rattled through a list of almost fifteen bands before coming to the last on the bill. "...Mystic Spiral, hey, it says in their bio they're from Lawndale, you know them?"

"Ha, they actually managed to pull their act together to score a decent gig!" Daria smiled in amazement. "Yeah I have had the pleasure of being introduced."

"Hmmm, they're cute, Trent Lane... Hey, isn't Jane's last name Lane?" She turned to Daria.

"Yeah, Trent's her brother, I've had the unfortunate pleasure of being subjected to the distorted guitar licks and woeful lyrics for nigh four years." she said with a smirk, a sense of pride grew in the pit of her stomach; despite their faults the Spiral weren't too bad, and when they put their minds together and concentrated on the music they actually managed to sound good, this latest news was proof.

"I've heard them on the radio quite a lot, mostly late nite when the grunge hour is on, but they're pretty good."

"They've had airtime? On a real nationwide radio station, wow."

"Well JJJ is an indie rock station, not really mainstream, but it gives exposure." Addie shrugged, and diverted her gaze back to the computer. "Oh shit. I have to meet Dom in halfa, I'm going to be late" she said as she jumped to her feet and rifled through her closet selecting a short denim skirt and a fitted grey three quarter top and a long chunky charm necklace. She dressed quickly as she kicked off her house shoes and slipped her feet into a pair of leather sandals. "See ya." She called as she ran down the hall.

Daria looked around the room and eyed the digital clock on the computer desk at the foot of her bed; the emblazoned red display read seven thirty-five. Daria's side of the room was quite stark in comparison to Addie's; a majority of her belongings were housed at Jane's apartment. The only real hint of Daria's presence, were the large poster of the archaeological dig and a small selection of her bone collection, as well as her laptop that currently resided on the small desk with the clock. She had two hours to get to her Literature lecture.  
Daria stood and walked lazily over to the small kitchenette; she flicked the switch on the kettle and retrieved the large jar of coffee from the cupboard beneath. While she waited for the kettle to work its magic on the water, she turned to her wardrobe and opened it and surveyed its contents.

As a parting and well meaning; although completely unwanted gift, Quinn had coerced Daria into a shopping trip to mature her look for college. Daria knew that she had to get some new clothes, her uniform from the prior three years had served well; but due to nature's plans for her body the clothes had crept up and stretched over certain places and she was in need of clothes that actually fit her. So with reluctance she had accompanied Quinn to the mall and allowed herself to be dressed up. The shamed feelings of whoring herself out as a fashion model was eased with the bribe Helen had slipped her on their way out.

_"I'm glad you're accepting Quinn's offer this bonding experience may be a little late but at least make an effort"_

She ran her hand across the full wardrobe in front of her, not exactly all the up to date fashions; Quinn given her dues had been rather helpful and suggested timeless classic pieces that rarely were out of date; the staple wardrobe she had mused as she had selected clothing from the hangers, and laden them into Daria's outstretched arms. She selected a pair of light denim skinny leg jeans and a dark navy tank top. She flipped her head upside down and gathered her hair into a loose pony tail then walked over to the desk and found her contacts cursing them and promising to herself that although she avoided any and all contact with her mother she would have to get her to cover the bill for a new pair of glasses.  
She looked at the clock once more before she made herself a coffee and sat at the computer. She scanned through the files before and stopped at "Melody".  
Taking a long sip of her hot beverage she paused momentarily and began to type.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Daria had slid into college life quite easily. She had kept mostly to herself and had avoided allot of the major keggers that had been held around the campus, much to both Jane and Addie's dismay. Daria had been determined to put the previous summer's break out behind her and focus on her studies and maintaining her 4.0 GPA. She had lasted a little more than a month at the dorms with Addie before she had begged Jane to let her live at the apartment.

It was a typical Thursday night; Daria had locked herself in the spare room and was working on her Literature midterm assignment; a short story depicting societies influence over an original character. Melody Powers had been chosen without any thought and Daria had been vivaciously writing her second adventure. The assignment was due in for marking on Monday.

Daria was grateful to have the flat to herself; the 'Unearthed' concert that Mystic Spiral were performing at was on that night and Jane had agreed to help out with roadie duties in exchange for a free entry. She had left that morning with much reluctance over leaving Daria by herself; no amount of tempting had swayed Daria's decision to remain at home and study for her last midterm test and take the rare opportunity of solitude to complete her story.

As Daria typed she found her mind had started to wander, she found it hard to believe how quickly the first semester had passed. Her nineteenth birthday was in a few days, and although her social circle had expanded somewhat during the course of the past few months she had kept her summer's new found demeanour under wraps. She had no plans to party hard and hope the day would slip by unnoticed.

As Daria scanned through her story for the umpteenth time, finally happy with it, she hit the save button and heard the door to the flat open. The additional sounds of the unmistakable cackle of Jane's 'drunken' laugh followed by a hushed masculine voice, floated through the flat. With her interest piqued she tiptoed over to the door and slid into the dining room carefully creeping over to the railing peering down over the lounge room below.

The top of Jane's head bobbed through the hall as she made her way to the bedrooms below. Daria returned to the spare room and flicked the stereo on, as she surveyed the lumpy futon in the corner.

_It has to be better than having to sleep next to Jane's room, listening to her and her consort all night_.

*********************

"Didn't you have your last test this morning you're going to be late." Jane's voice was laced with slumber; her dishevelled form slumped into one of the retro stools at the breakfast bar. She cradled her head precariously in her right hand as she watched Daria make coffee.

"Jane its four o'clock in the afternoon, the exam finished three hours ago." Daria informed her, as she set a large mug of espresso in front of her friend.

_Some things never change._

Daria mused as she shook her head.

"So you're free?" Jane perked up and clasped her hands together. "Great, so you have no excuses to avoid Saturday night." A malevolent smile inched its way across Jane's face, her crystal blue eyes gleamed.

Daria knew that look.

"Well I still have the Lit paper to hand in..."

"Please Daria, that's been finished for at least a week; I know you and I know the look you get when you've completed a story."

"Dammit." Daria muttered under her breath. "You know what this means Lane."

"You're going to have fun, let loose for once and embrace the college lifestyle, instead of studying yourself into an early midlife crisis at the age of 25?" Jane's smile broadened.

She had hoped Jane would forget and her birthday slip by without fuss. However that didn't seem to be the case; Jane clearly had other ideas. Daria surveyed Jane warily, her brow furrowed slightly.

"What do you have in mind?" She asked hesitantly.

"Global's Gangsta Grunge night; we can get dressed up, have a few drinks, come back here and kick on." Jane smiled.

"Jane, you know I enjoy a good ole fashion shindig as much as the next gal, but need I remind you what happened last time I let you convince me to get dressed up and go out?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind a bit of refresher. Actually you still owe me an explanation as to what you got up to; as far as I know Trent's the only living soul that knows what happened..."

Daria winced inwardly, the Tom subject was still shrouded in secrecy; Daria didn't want to tell Jane about prom night, not yet anyway.

Why not, it's not like it really meant anything, Daria thought, although sex was a subject they rarely encroached. They had been friends for over four years but they weren't that type of friends- conversations dealing with sex and love for the most part were left unsaid. Even Jane's mystery man was a subject Daria had yet to enquire about.

"So how dressed up do we have to be?" Daria turned to clean the mess left after making the coffee.

Jane raised an eyebrow; she had caught Daria's aversion to answering her question.

"Addie said there's a shop in town, sells the type of clothes for the event."

"Great, Addie loves to play dress up with me. She's as bad as Quinn." Daria started as she rinsed her mug in the sink.

"Oh there's one other little thing. A minor drawback, teensy weensy..."

Daria looked up and set her eyes on Jane. Minor setbacks in Jane's language were never small and rarely ended well for her. A foreboding mood swept through Daria as she took a deep breath.

"How minor?"

Before Jane had a chance to answer the door bell had sounded and the visitor had let themselves in.

***

"Oh my god the view from your balcony is amazing, you guys are so lucky. So I was thinking that we hit that shop over in the village before we check out the mall."

Quinn surveyed the two girls that sat in the kitchen; they observed her as she paced around checking out the flat. She stopped in front of the pair and eyed them, as she rested a hand loosely on her hip.

"What?"

"What are you doing here?" Daria asked carefully.

"God Daria it's your birthday, I wanted to celebrate it with you." Daria cocked an eyebrow and looked at Quinn suspiciously. "Okay, okay. Mom and Dad are at each other's throats, I swear to god one more minute in that house and I'm going to..." Quinn trailed off and looked pleadingly at Daria, as she took a seat at the small dining table.

Daria knew things had been strained between her parents for some time, although she hadn't spoken to Helen or Jake regular emails were sent between them.

"How bad is it?" Daria asked Quinn.

"Well I'm here aren't I?" Quinn smiled an attempt at a joke had fallen flat.

Daria observed her younger sister; she had made some vast adjustments to her personality over the course of the past few months. Hints of which Daria had observed in the last few days of the summer, after she had struck up a friendship with Lindy.

"Look, I really need some time out; let loose a little, and from what I hear so do you." Both Morgandorffer girls glanced at Jane with opposing expressions. "Come on Daria, you've finished your midterms and you deserve to have a bit of fun."

"I don't do fun, and besides don't you have your fashion fiends to let loose with?" Daria deadpanned.

"Pfft, the fashion club is defunct, after dealing with real problems, crises dealing with nail polish and lipsticks are kinda beneath me. So I'm on a permanent sabbatical, well we all are, once I gave the word Sandi said she was already on a sabbatical." Quinn scoffed.

Daria and Jane exchanged glances and returned their attention back to the bubbly redhead. Quinn perked and jumped out of her seat as she rummaged through her bag setting it on the bench beside Daria. She drew out a small plastic card and handed it to her sister.

Daria flipped it over in her hands as she scrutinized it.

"Quinn this is a fake ID." Daria glanced up at her sister.

"An early birthday present." Quinn beamed.

"This isn't even me."

"Duh, it's a fake ID."

"Quinn, this is you-in a brown wig."

Jane snatched the card out of Daria's hand and studied it; a smile etched itself across her face. "You know, Princess Grace here has managed to look kinda like you."

"It's ok, I bought the wig, and I even wore glasses."

"But they aren't my glasses."

"Yes they are. Mom knew you wanted a pair and I took the liberty of selecting the frames. Oh this is like your birthday present from mom and dad they said sorry for suck a boring gift."

Daria shook her head and held out her hand. "Let me see them then."

Quinn pulled out a glasses case and gave it to Daria. She opened it and tried them on. The glasses were small, black rectangular framed; very stylish, very sleek, very chic- Daria didn't like them.

"I'll suppose they'll have to do then." She deadpanned defeated.

"Great so this party, did I hear dress up?"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Two minutes." Addie called, as she slapped a dollar on the table.

"One minute." Quinn added, as she placed her dollar on top of Addie's.

"Forty five seconds." Jane concluded, and added her own money to the small pile.

The three girls looked at each other and back to the bar where Daria stood. A preppy blond male sashayed over and leaned on the bar next to her; a seductive smile drew itself across his face. Jane looked at her watch.

"Fifteen seconds..." she uttered quietly to the girls and snuck a glance back to her friend.

The girls watched as Daria ignored his initial advances and moved away slightly, the bar tender sat her drinks in front of her and she turned to go. The man stood and lightly touched her shoulder she turned to face him with a loathsome look.

"Thirty five..."

The three girls watched in anticipation, as they witnessed the encounter before them; Daria's face wasn't visible from their vantage point but Jane guessed that her facial features weren't as inviting as the man hoped they would be. Daria held a hand up toward the man and turned on her heel, back to the girls table.

"HA!! Forty five seconds." Jane exclaimed triumphantly as she collected her winnings.

Daria set the drinks on the table and sat in the vacant seat with a huff.

"I thought I told you to stop that, betting on how long it takes me to blow of the barflies every time it's my turn to get drinks." Daria exclaimed exasperatedly.

"Oh come on Daria, I'll spit my winnings with you." Jane beamed; the effects of the alcohol shone in her eyes.

"It's 'cause you look so good tonight." Quinn turned to Daria, her stoic demeanour slipped, as she calmed down.

Daria had been coerced into getting dressed up on the advice that she would have a better chance at gaining entry in if she did herself up. The four girls were dressed in a similar fashion to the rest of the patrons in the club, mostly in tones of black, white and red. Daria wore a black corset style shirt and a fitted knee length pencil skirt split up the back, Jane in a similar corset red dress. Addie and Quinn wore fitted navy and white dresses respectively.

Their attention was drawn to the stage as a distorted whine of feedback resounded through the speakers.

"Hey, we're the Harpies hope you enjoy the set." Monique's voice purred over the PA system, it cut through the din of the crowd.

"Ugh, the Harpies, they're so wannabe and the lead singer looks like a thirty five year old woman that's tried to pour herself into a pair of skin-tight leather pants." Addison proclaimed; her nose wrinkled at the end of her sentence.

Jane and Daria exchanged glances and stifled a laugh.

"I'll let her know." Jane chided, a broad smile crossed her face as she watched Addie's drop slightly. "She was Trent's on again off again girlfriend. Any of their angst-ridden, men are scum songs are about Trent."

Addie nodded slightly and drained the rest of her beverage. "Another round?" she questioned as she began to stand.

"Sure, but I vote Daria gets it; I've already lost eight bucks I need to get some back." Quinn replied as she mirrored Addison's actions and finished her own drink.

Daria surveyed the three girls. She stood defeated as she finished her own drink and crossed the congested room. She stood at the crowded bar and waited to be served, within minutes the dark haired man that had sidled up to her turned to acknowledge her presence.

"Hey darling." He crooned.

Daria flashed a disinterested look and stifled a scoff. The girls at the table prepared themselves each slapped a note on the table.

"Two and a half minutes." Jane called.

"Three." Quinn followed.

"One." Addie said as the three turned to watch.

"You don't come here much, do you?" He enquired.

"Does that work for you, ever?" Daria spat back temper flared.

"Does what?" He smiled.

"That pick up line, it's pathetic." She snorted and turned back to the bar.

"Hey settle down, I'll start again; I'm Brett." He offered his hand but it was left untouched.

Daria raised an eyebrow and tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. "I'm not interested." She said dismissively.

"You taken then? Figures fine thing like you."

Daria's temper had piqued. "Yeah he's here actually."

"Well then, what he doesn't see won't hurt him." He inched closer to Daria, as she slid away in the opposite direction trying to keep as much the distance between them as she could.

"Look..." Daria was cut off by a male sweeping down; he whispered softly in her ear.

"Trust me, play along." A husky, masculine voice purred.

The three girls sat in a stunned silence, as they watched the tall male sling his arm around Daria's waist and bent down; he embraced Daria, the palm of his hand gently guided her into him for a soft lingering kiss.

"HA!" Jane choked, and burst into laughter.

Addison added another note to the pile on the table. "An extra five says she slaps him."

Jane and Quinn exchanged glances and returned their attention back to Daria. The tall male stood with his back to them; he wore a black fedora, a pair of grey slacks and a white casual business shirt; arms rolled up to his elbow, a tribal tattoo poked out from under the sleeve. Through the intoxicated haze Jane and Quinn both came to the realisation at the same time and smiled at each other.

"Five says she brings him back over here." Quinn chuckled and shook her head.

_What the hell am I doing get your damn tongue out of my mouth._

Daria pulled away and glanced to the spot where the sleazy guy had stood; the space now unoccupied. She turned her attention back to the man who had thrust himself upon her; her mouth gaped as her skin turned a brilliant vermillion hue.

"Trent? What are you doing here?"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Trent gazed down at Daria and rubbed the nape of his neck nervously. He had watched the encounter between the petite brunette and the drunken man in front of him, while he waited to be served. The drunken man was persistent, despite her obvious rebuffing; he had yet to take a hint. Trent didn't really blame him; the woman was gorgeous.

"_...What he doesn't see won't hurt him..._"

It was quite apparent to Trent, that she had lied in a bid to throw him off; but it hadn't worked. He watched as the man advanced on her and she stumbled backward. In hindsight his actions were equal to, if not worse, than that of his counterpart and as his mouth grazed the soft full lips of the woman he braced himself for a slap.

Trent cocked his head to the side and a lopsided grin inched its way across his face.

"Hey Daria." He purred.

"Ma'am? That'll be twenty-two eighty." The bartender called out, and brought Daria out of her dazed stupor.

"It's ok, I got it." Trent held out the money and collected the drinks.

"Mmm, thanks." Daria muttered, as she led the way back to the table.

The look Jane gave her as they approached made the subsiding blush on Daria face flare, as she sat down. Had the effects of the alcohol and the surprise appearance of Trent not rendered her incapable of a coherent response, Jane would have endured the wrath of a patented Morgandorffer verbal smack-down. Instead she kept quiet and took a hungry mouthful of her drink.

"Hey that's not fair; you two had insider info on that last one." Addie whined, and grabbed the five dollar note she had thrown on the table earlier.

"Hey big brother, this is Addison, and you know Quinn; this is Trent."

Trent nodded and greeted the two girls at the table.

"So, still hanging around grunge pubs, scammin' on the hotties eh?" Jane quipped with an audacious smirk.

Trent chuckled and flicked his eyes quickly to Daria. "Just helping a girl out." He replied with a shrug.

"Mmm-hmm." Jane responded. "So why are you here? Don't you have that tour?"

"Got cancelled, something about a safety issue with the barriers between the stage and the audience; some girl got trampled at another concert and new laws have been brought in. The organisers didn't have the funds to get the new stuff. Monique's brother owns this place; I had a business meeting with him earlier. He said it was something he wouldn't let me refuse." Trent replied cryptically.

"Which is?" Jane leaned in as the rowdy crowd had begun to thrash around to the music.

"Later, but we're celebrating."

"We?" Daria had finally found her voice.

"The rest of The Spiral is here..." Trent scanned the packed room. "Somewhere..."

Quinn rose to her feet, and pulled up Addie beside her; the two girls swayed in unison and giggled. "We're going to dance." She announced, as she led the way to the dance floor.

***

"YOU OUT!!!" A deep voice cut across the crowd, as a tall burly bouncer waded through the mass of people on the dance floor; an outstretched arm reached down and grabbed the collar of the culprit.

Daria, Jane and Trent watched in bemusement as the security guard led Max out in a stronghold arm lock.

"You can't kick me out I will own you. I am a criminale!!" Max shouted as he passed the threesome.

"Oh shit." Trent muttered, as he stood and casually walked out behind them, he spotted Jesse and Nick following suit across the room.

"We'll get the girls and meet you outside." Jane looked hesitantly to the dance floor as she tried to spot them.

"Dude, he doesn't know what's coming to him; I'm gunna get him fired." Max slurred, as he pulled himself into a standing position.

"You can't blame him man; you jumped on stage and put a hole in the amp, then stage dived into the crowd." Jesse replied curtly.

"Come on, get up man, we have to take the girls home." Trent announced and he held his hand out for the keys. Max reluctantly handed them over and slumped against the wall.

"What the hell happened in there?" Jane enquired as the girls joined the musicians on the street.

"Max being Max." Trent shrugged and turned motioning for the group to follow him to the tank.

***

They arrived back at Jane and Daria's flat half an hour later, a trip that should have taken five minutes was drawn out by Addie's admission that she was feeling sick. She narrowly missed the edge of the van as she vomited on the side of the road. Jane let the group into the apartment and led them into the lounge room.

"We need music, your C.D's are in the study right?" Quinn hiccoughed and she led Addie upstairs to the spare room.

"They're in the cupboard." Daria called out to them.

The rest of the group divided; the boys let themselves out to the balcony as they sparked up cigarettes, Jane and Daria proceeded to scale the stairs to the kitchen as Jane rummaged through the cupboards. She pulled out a couple of glasses and a full bottle of vodka.

"Ah I'll pass." Daria looked at the bottle warily.

"Oh come on just one before we head back out."

"Back out?"

"The night is young dear friend, we have yet..."

Jane was interrupted by a large crash that echoed through the flat, its source; the spare room adjacent to the kitchen.

"Shit...Oh my God." Quinn's voice was the only sound audible.

Daria jumped up and ran to the room, Jane at her heels. The two girls stopped in the doorway and took in the scene. Quinn stood over the upturned desk, its contents strewn across the floor. The cause for concern lied with the thin laptop; its screen severed, it emitted a faint, high-pitched squeal that resonated around the still room. Daria observed that the coffee that she had discarded that morning had been spilt over the computer. It let off a crackle and a faint wisp of smoke; a dying hum signified its death. Daria returned her icy gaze to her sister and ex-dorm roommate.

"Out, now." Daria spoke slowly, through clenched teeth; she was seething.

Addie began to move toward the door, whilst Quinn hesitated. "Addie was trying to get..."

Daria held up a hand to silence her and shook her head slightly. "Don't. Not now."

Daria turned and exited the room and walked to the kitchen. She took the drink she had denied herself earlier and sipped at it, she grimaced as she felt the soothing burn spread throughout her body. The three girls followed her and watched cautiously, Quinn stepped forward and began slowly.

"Do you have a back up on like, a BSU stick?"

"USB, and no I don't." She appeared to have calmed slightly, as she sat on the bench. "That was my only copy, it's due in on Monday a little more than twenty four hours away, I can't remember it all, that paper is worth seventy percent of my mark." Daria pinched the bridge of her nose, and gave a frustrated sigh.

"You have it written in one of those legal pads don't you?" Jane said slowly.

"Yeah notes, most of the full story; but it's a draft, I can't hand it in for marking." Daria took another sip of her drink and looked helplessly at Jane.

"No, but you can rewrite it using that as a guide, I'm sure you remember most of it anyway," Jane smiled reassuringly at Daria and continued. "Not much you can do tonight though, I say we head back out and deal with it in the morning." She finished as she made her way down to the balcony to inform the guys.

Daria looked at Quinn and Addison, who had began to gather their things. Quinn turned and looked up at Daria who had yet to make a move. "Are you coming?" Quinn queried.

Daria shook her head slowly in response. "Nah, I'm going to find that note book, write it down so I have time to edit it in the morning; make sure it makes sense." Daria spoke into her lap; her hands cradled the near full tumbler of vodka. She remained frozen for a moment before she slowly placed the glass beside her and slid off the bench. A small, struggled smile ghosted across her lips as she faced her sister and passed her on her way to the study.

Daria busied herself picking up the debris in the study, as a vain, fruitless attempt to divert her mind away from the anger that surged through her; begging to erupt within her. She kicked out at the computer on the ground and allowed a small growl to pass her lips before she turned her attention to the open cupboard. The top shelf housed her spare books.

"Figures...How the hell am I suppose to get that down?" she mused out loud, as she surveyed the room for something to stand on; she opted for the upturned computer chair.  
She dragged it in front of the shelves and stood on it and stretched up; even with the aid of the chair and the extra height it gave her, she was still a few inches away.  
"Damn short statured body..." She grunted softly as she pulled herself to her maximum height. "Dammit, why can't you be taller...? Who the hell am I talking to? God this can't be good sign." She shook her head a propped a foot onto one of the lower shelves to give her an extra boost.

"You need a hand?" Trent's voice drifted into the room.

Daria froze and turned toward him. He leaned against the door frame; arms crossed loosely over his chest, a lopsided smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, as he observed Daria precariously perched upon the makeshift step ladder she had created.

"What are you doing here? I thought you left with everyone." Daria asked still frozen.

Trent shrugged and crossed the threshold into the room. He reached an arm up, effortlessly pulled the box down and set it on the floor. He offered a hand to Daria as she turned to dismount the chair; she stared at it momentarily before taking it to steady herself.

"Thanks." she muttered, she evaded his gaze as she bent down and flipped through the black journals to find an empty one.

They descended the stairs to the lounge room and sat themselves on opposite chairs.

"So why did you stay back? I thought you were celebrating something."

"Max is in one of his moods. I'd only loose it with him and get the shits, and Nick is one beer away from moping about his family situation. Suppose it's a pre-emptive strike to avoid a confrontation." He smiled and met Daria's gaze. " 'Sides you can't be alone on your birthday. So you want me to read out the story and you write it down? Make it easier?"

He lent forward and retrieved the battered lecture pad from the corner of Daria's lounge before she could protest.

"Ah... It's pretty messy." She said, as she opened the front cover of the journal and smoothed the page down.

"Please Daria, I'm a musician. I have to try and read my own scratchy writing off beer coasters and screwed up napkins; I think I can handle it."

****

"Well that's all you have written in here, is that all you need?" Trent asked, as he closed the book and stretched out before he stood and headed to the stairs.

"Mmm-hmm, yeah." Daria nodded. "I just have the ending to do but it's pretty fresh in my mind; I only wrote it yesterday, well Thursday. Thanks." She replied without looking up, and started to write with enthused speed.

As she finished, she reread the last paragraph and closed the book. She placed it on the glass coffee table in front of her, then stretched back and removed her glasses; she allowed her head to rest back against the lounge and closed her eyes. Thankful that she had gotten the assignment finished allot quicker than she had anticipated; due to Trent's help.

She opened her eyes to the noise of Trent returning with a glass of what Daria assumed was vodka, she eyed it suspiciously.

"It's okay, it's not strong; a nightcap." He assured her as he slid down into the opposite side of her lounge.

She took the glass, sipped it slowly then rested it in her lap. She swirled the liquid in the glass slowly as they sat in silence, both waited for the other to speak. Daria could feel Trent's gaze as he evaluated her; his mesmerising dark eyes slid over her, trying to work her out.

She took a deep breath and turned to meet his gaze.

"Can I ask you a question?" Daria spoke hesitantly.

"Technically, you already have." He smiled mischievously and cocked his head to the side; he raked his free hand through his hair. "Go on, shoot."

"Did you know that it was me at the bar?"

Trent seemed to ponder for a moment as he took a long sip of his drink; he kept his eyes set firmly on Daria. "Does it matter?" his cheeky smile returned momentarily, then dropped as he continued in a more sincere tone. "No. I wasn't expecting it to be you, I was actually preparing for a good hard slap." He chuckled and met Daria's eyes once again.

"I should have slapped you, you know that?" She allowed a smile to creep across her lips.

"Did you know it was me?"

"Looking back I should have, I mean, I did hear your voice, but I wasn't really in the frame of mind to know what was going on. It was a complete surprise, you were one of the last people I expected to kiss me...I mean I didn't think you were anywhere near Boston; I wasn't expecting it to be you."

"What are friends for?" He smiled and diverted his attention to his glass; he mimicked Daria's swirling actions, a slightly forlorn smile ghosted his lips as he watched the liquid splash in the glass. The only sound audible was the light 'chincking' of the ice cubes as they bounced off the sides.

Daria smiled slightly as she contemplated her next question; this was the boldest she'd ever been with Trent, and she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know the answer. "Would you still have kissed me, if you knew it was me?" she asked shyly; her eyes averted from Trent's piercing gaze.

Trent chuckled and shook his head, Daria looked at him squarely. "That's entrapment. There is no way I am going to answer that; I'd be in trouble no matter what I said." He smirked and their eyes met. "We'll have to wait and find out if the situation ever arises again."

The two sat in a thoughtful silence, caught in their own reveries.

Trent studied the Daria in front of him; she was vastly different from the Daria he knew. She had matured; no longer the awkward teenager he had met four years earlier. Would he have kissed her, if he knew it had been her? In a heartbeat. He watched as she absentmindedly chewed on her thumbnail, while she thought. She tossed her head back and cleared her face of the long bangs that framed it.

Daria glanced at Trent; slightly annoyed that he had evaded her question. She found him once again studying her; it unnerved her slightly, she wasn't used to having so much attention lavished on her by her best friend's brother. Although she didn't find it all bad, a small voice piped up in the back of her head; _Maybe, just maybe..._ She shook her head and pushed the thought back from whence it came.

The pensive atmosphere that had befallen them was shattered with the introduction of Jane's frivolous voice, as it cascaded through the near silent flat.

"Heeeelllllooooo happy campers." She scoffed as she stumbled into the lounge room, followed by an equally inebriated Quinn.

Daria collected her things and turned to address the room.

"I better get to bed, I still have to touch up the story and add some footnotes in the morning. Good night..." Daria spoke quickly, she could still feel the heat of Trent's scrutiny; a stare that evoked a warm sensation, that caused her stomach to roll and her heart to flutter. She turned and gave one last fleeting glance to the lounge, she caught Trent's eye and returned his slight smile.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Daria disrobed and crawled in-between the cold sheets of her bed. She closed her eyes and tried to stifle the thoughts that rushed through her head; sleep was not going to come easy for her tonight. She could hear the clumsy thud of her drunken friend and sister as they busied themselves in the kitchen above her. Daria groaned as she rolled on her side and pulled the covers over her head.

A sharp rap at her door pulled her from the lulled state she had eventually managed to reach. "What?" she called bluntly.

The door opened slowly and Jane let herself in, she took a seat on the end of Daria's bed. "Hey."

"Hey? Jane couldn't that wait til the morning?" Daria replied wearily.

"So, did you get the story finished?"

Daria sighed; she reached out her arm and turned her bedside lamp on. She turned back to Jane, rested herself on her elbows and greeted her with a blank stare.

"Sure was nice of Trent to stay back and help you..." a small smile pinched the corner of Jane's mouth.

"Yeah, what a guy." Daria deadpanned. "Jane, I'm tired get to the point."

"Nothing really, I just wanted to make sure you got everything done." Jane replied simply.

"Yes, I got everything done, thanks."

"So..." Jane drew out the word playfully, much to Daria's char grin; she knew what was coming. "You and Trent..." Jane let the words hang.

"Are friends. Nothing happened." Daria asserted.

Jane scoffed. "Please Daria the sexual tension was so thick when we walked in, I'm surprised you weren't choking on it. We may not have walked in you the two of you in _another_ lusty lip lock; but something definitely happened." Jane raised an eyebrow at her friend.

"Jane, nothing happened trust me." Daria sighed. "And, the one at the club doesn't count; he didn't know it was me." She said finally as she rolled away.

"Mmm maybe, maybe not. I bet he would have still done it, even if did know." Jane answered as she rose from the bed and headed to the door, a small smirk on her face.

"I asked and he wouldn't answer; said it was entrapment. Doesn't matter anyway nothing would ever happen." Daria's muffled voice called out, her final words marred by a yawn.

******************

Daria paced nervously in the empty corridor; the noise of her shoes against the linoleum bounced around her as the noise echoed against the walls. She stopped and studied the large heavy, hardwood door in front of her. She cursed silently before she continued to pace.

The grades for her Literature assignments were posted that morning, outside the very room she stood in front of now. She had been the last student to check her grade; she hung back and allowed the rush to subside before tentatively approaching the board. Her eyes scanned the list before resting on her own name.

Morgandorffer, Daria........................ TBA.

"TBA? TBA? To be announced what the hell does that mean?" She muttered; her voice twisted with confusion.

The door beside her slid open and a portly middle-aged balding man exited.

"Oh Daria, just the person I was looking for. I take it you have seen your results?" He asked, as he glanced at the notice board.

"The lack of results, yeah. Was there a problem with it being handwritten?" Daria enquired.

"Not now, this afternoon, at three. Could you meet me back here and we'll discuss your paper." He answered dismissively and began to walk down the corridor.

Daria glanced at her watch, three fifteen. She stopped in front of the door once more and sighed, she willed the growing knot of anxiety in the pit of her stomach, to subside. She reached out her hand and knocked on the door.

"Come in." Daria heard the faint reply.

She hesitated slightly, then grasped the cool iron door handle and slowly twisted it.

_Here goes nothing..._

As she pushed the door open and entered the large room, she found her professor sitting at his large antique timber desk. Copious amounts of papers and books took up most of the space; dwarfing the rather short man. He peered up at her over his bifocals.

"Ms. Morgandorffer. Daria, please take a seat." He motioned to an empty chair with his hand.

Daria sat quietly and stared at him with an expressionless face, she hoped her facial features didn't portray the anxiety she felt.

"Now, your grade. I'm afraid I've had a lot of trouble deciding what I should give you. First and foremost I will continue with the assumption that you are aware that I select a few of the top papers and submit them to The American Scholar literature journal for review to be published. I understand that you have had one of your stories published before."

"Yes. My first Melody Powers short story; the Scholar rejected it, said it wasn't to their style. I don't know why you think that they'd reconsider, even if someone like you...I mean someone with your literature knowledge and contacts, submitted it."

"I agree, Melody Powers the sequel isn't something they would consider. It's a good story but nothing stands out and I mean this in the most constructive fashion but it's not compulsive reading nor does it explore any new ground."

Daria looked at her professor with bemusement. "Professor Stevenson, I don't understand."

"I am sorry, the reason I have had trouble grading your paper is that I don't know which one to mark..."

Daria's face remained unchanged. Professor Stevenson sighed exasperatedly and held up Daria's black leather bound journal and raised his eyebrow. Daria's brow furrowed slightly as she shook her head.

"I'm sorry I still don't follow."

Professor Stevenson smiled slightly and opened the front cover, the title 'Melody Powers' stood out with her name written neatly in cursive below. He then shut the book and turned it over in his hands and opened the back cover exposing the second story; 'Clichéd- life in a pigeon hole' scrawled emotively on the first page. Daria's brow shot up into her hairline.

"Sir, that's not a piece of writing I intended to submit for marking, that wasn't meant to be seen by anyone." Daria spoke hurriedly.

"It's a real shame, far surpassing your Melody paper, and one if not the best work handed in for this assignment. I have already submitted it for review to be published..."

Daria's temper flared anger replaced all of the nervous anxiety that had consumed her earlier. "You what? That was a personal piece, it wasn't meant to be read it..."

"It was accepted for publication, pending editing and I'm sure name changes." The professor sat back in his chair a small triumphant smile on his lips.

Daria sat speechless. Professor Stevenson took this as an indication that Daria was considering the offer.

"There's a list of changes that the magazine would like, namely taking each of the characters and creating a few separate pieces. They're willing to publish more than one story, they were quite impressed."

Daria blinked and mentally cleared her head. "I'll um, think about it. So why the delay on the mark"

"I'd like to know which story you want to submit, speaking with you now, it seems quite obvious that the 'clichéd' work wasn't intentionally submitted. The marks vary a little between the stories. The Clichéd work carries a higher mark on taking a more innovative tact, not one other student has handed me something quite so raw and honest."

"I submitted the Melody Powers story and you can give me that mark. I'll think about the publication offer, I need some time to think about it."

"The deadline is in two weeks." He leaned forward holing the journal and attached notes in his hand.

"Right, Thanks." Daria collected the journal and the notes and quickly exited the room.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Daria walked into the apartment and threw her keys on the hall table. She leafed through the mail that had piled up over the course of the week and sorted it into three piles; Daria, Jane, and Junk. It didn't surprise her that the junk pile dwarfed the other two piles. She glanced up and caught her reflection in the mirror that was hung above the hall stand; she was met by an expression of doubt. Since she had left her professor's office, her mind had been plagued with uncertainty; what should she do?

The contents of the story were personal; even with names changed the offending characters would know who it was about. She had toyed with the idea of a pen name to ensue her anonymity but stopped herself from getting carried away; the work was never meant to be seen, it shouldn't be seen even; if it was good enough for a prestigious magazine and would act as a significant stepping stone toward further publication...

"Daria? Is that you?" Jane's voiced echoed through the expansive flat, followed by the sound of rushed steps as she descended from the upper level. She met Daria in the lounge. "Great, you're finally home. So, how'd it go?" Jane continued animatedly, as she followed Daria to her room. She paused at the door whilst Daria flung her bag and books on the bed.

"Great, so great in fact, a literary magazine wants to publish my story." Daria deadpanned.

"Really? That's great; see there was nothing to worry about. Tonight can be a joint celebration."

"Yeah. Huh, joint celebration?" Daria questioned.

"Yeah, Trent let me in on the news; Mystik Spiral bought The Globe."

"Why, wait, how?"

"Monique's brother Dion owned it; apparently their mom is pretty sick; cancer or something. They needed the cash and the band had it, well enough for a significant deposit from their minor success."

"So Trent has willingly traded in a music career for a real job?" Daria shook her head in disbelief.

"I don't think it was spun that way; Dion has a silver tongue when it comes to selling. I think he has them believing it's going to be a walk in the park; no scouting for gigs, they can be the resident band and get all the proceeds, no divvying it up between the owner and the band, when they're one and the same."

"This is going to be a disaster, you know that as well as I, they're going to have to run a business, manage the books and organise staff...those guys have never seen a project through to the end."

"Ah well, they'll rack it up to experience then."

"Hmm. Jane the story I wrote, I need a second opinion... Would you read it tell me what you think?" Daria looked at Jane awkwardly as she absentmindedly chewed her thumb nail. She had decided that if she were to submit the story for publication, the person that knew her best should have first read; even if it meant letting the proverbial cat out of the bag on the whole Tom fiasco.

"Yeah sure, leave it on my bed; I'll take a squiz tomorrow. Come on, we better get moving we were supposed to meet the guys half an hour ago."

***

The mood in the Globe was subdued; which was to be expected. It was a Wednesday night and most of the regular patrons that frequented the club, were keeping quiet in preparation for the last few weeks of classes before the holiday break. The band, Jane, Dion and Daria were scattered around the room, mostly confined to the large pool table in the far corner. Daria found herself seated at a lone table staring down into her beer; an obligatory refreshment handed to her as they had arrived. She wasn't in the mood for social interaction and found herself wanting to recoil into herself as she watched the frivolities of the others.

Her solitude wasn't entirely self inflicted; Jane had met up with a guy she had met from BFAC, and had retreated to another table.

"Hey guys, girls, we're heading up the office, going over a few renovation plans that you might want to think about." Dion called out from the doorway. He was a big guy with dark raven hair; his girth took up three quarters of the doorway. Although he was big, the bulk of him was muscles; although age seemed to be catching him up as the girth of his stomach appeared to be more of a keg than a defined six pack.

Daria followed the party upstairs, and watched as they filed into the large double doors on the second level; presumably into the second dance floor. She paused and saw a third set of stairs that led higher. Driven by the want for solitude, she proceeded to ascend the stairs and found herself on the rooftop. She glanced around at her surroundings; the area had been fitted with a few strings of fairy lights that illuminated a makeshift bar area, that consisted of a small fridge and a large wooden table.

She took a small sip of her beer, and grimaced as the warm liquid swirled around her mouth and spat it out in a nearby bin.

"Ugh!" She muttered as she discarded the bottle.

She walked to the ledge wall of the roof top and leaned against it. She welcomed the icy breeze that swept up from the streets below numbing her fingers and face, unfortunately her mind still ran wild as it debated whether or not she should rewrite the story for the magazine. Soft footsteps alerted her that she was not alone, and she realised she had lost track of time; she had to have been up there at least half an hour.

"Hey, are you okay?" Trent asked as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and held it up. "You mind?"

Daria shrugged. "They're your lungs."

Trent nodded as he put the cigarette to his lips and lit it; he cupped his hands around the flame to shield it from the light breeze. He drew a long breath and exhaled; Daria watched as the smoke billowed from his mouth and nose, curled around his face and disappeared into the night air. Trent leant forward and placed his elbows on the ledge and peered down.

"You seem quiet," he stated as he inhaled once again, then cocked his head toward her; a smile cracked his lips. "More quiet than usual anyway."

Daria let his statement hang in the night air as she thought.

"Trent..."

"Hmm."

"Say you wrote and recorded a song on the end of a demo tape, but it wasn't like one of your normal songs it was personal; one you never had any intention of being heard..."

"Like a secret track?" Trent offered.

"Yeah...then say you forgot all about it and gave the tape to a record producer and they liked the demo, but they heard the secret track and really liked it, more than the original song and wanted you to record it with a few minor edits, say he reckoned that this secret song would be your big break. Would you release it?"

Trent studied Daria, his brow furrowed as he thought. "Nah, not if I had to edit it, a song is a piece of the artist, you think some record producer told Hendrix to cut down the guitar solos or Cobain to write something a little more upbeat? I don't think so."

Daria closed her eyes and shook her head. "Say the edits were necessary for protecting people's identities; not to rewrite the whole track."

"Huh? Oh, well it that case..." he paused and looked at Daria. "We're not really talking about my music, are we?" Trent returned his stare to the road as he flicked the butt of his cigarette.

"No..." Daria muttered.

"Is this about that story?"

"Yeah. But not the one you helped with, something more personal; kind of like a diary, but not." Daria hurried her last words, embarrassed that her diary would be taken for a real story.

Trent faced Daria; a comical smile flashed briefly across his face as he tried to imagine her writing 'Dear Diary' as she summed up her day.

"What?"

Trent shook his head "Nothing, just trying to imagine you writing 'Dear Diary' that's all. Isn't this one of those things you should talk to Janey about?"

"Yeah, I asked her to read it before I decided anything, but..."She trailed off.

"But?"

"It's got everything about prom night in it, stuff she doesn't know about. I'm not sure if it's the best way to tell her."

"You haven't told her?"

"The opportune time never seemed to come up. 'Hey Jane want to grab a pizza, Oh by the way, I slept with our ex-boyfriend at prom while I was completely shitfaced, and afterwards I passed out on the front your brother's car.' "

Trent chuckled. "Well, I guess she'll know soon enough."

"Yeah. Is Jane still on the second floor? I think I'm gunner head home."

"Nah, she didn't tell you? She left with that guy; they're going to an exhibition and then some interactive instillation thing."

"Oh... then I guess I'll see you round." Daria turned and began to walk to the door.

"Wait you're not walking are you?"

Daria turned back toward Trent. "There's no other way to get home; we walked here."

"You shouldn't walk by yourself, it's getting pretty late, here take my car." Trent pulled out his keys.

"I can't, I've been drinking." Daria shivered slightly and dug her hands into her pockets.

"Then I'll drive."

"You've drank more than me. I'll be fine." Daria assured as she turned back toward the door.

"I'll walk you." Trent said firmly. "That way I'll know you got home safe, and I won't feel like a bastard if anything happens to you."

Daria turned back once more and sighed defeatedly, there was no way Trent would let her go by herself and she could be waiting all night if she called a cab. "Okay, fine come on then." She ignored the playful flip her stomach made._ We're just friends, that's all. Just friends._


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Daria secured her black coat tightly around her midsection and stepped out into the cold air of the late autumn night. She shivered slightly as she balled her hands into fists and hugged them under her armpits. She cursed herself for feeling nostalgic earlier that evening; she had opted to wear her old black skirt and trusty combat boots. She was glad that she had heeded Jane's warnings of the forecasted cold snap and worn a pair of black leggings to shield her legs from the icy breeze.

"Getting cold." Trent mused and set his gaze to the deserted street ahead.

"Mmm." Daria replied; provided more for the want to avoid an awkward silence than a constructed answer.

"It's weird being in the same town as you and Janey again, I just got used to the idea of you two not being around."

"It's weird having you back; you were just breaking into the music market, why would you go and pack it in to buy a club?"

Trent looked at her and shrugged nonchalantly. " 'Nique asked us for help" he replied simply and turned his eyes set on the road ahead.

Daria's face fell slightly and she mentally chastised herself for it. "Are you and Monique still together?" she asked, thankful that her tone had remained indifferent.

Trent shot a crooked smile toward her. "Why you want seconds?" He let out a soft laugh.

Daria felt her mouth open and willed the words to come out. Trent shook his head and smiled; he continued before Daria had a chance to respond.

"No. Monique and I aren't together. We've known each other for years and her mom's a real nice lady, the band wanted to help her out and this was the best way to do it."

"Oh." Daria finally managed.

"How about you? Are you seeing anyone, I'll bet you're beating them off with a stick."

"I find a sledge hammer to be a much more effective means of deflection." The comment elicited a laugh from Trent. "No. I'm not seeing anyone."

"Why not?" Trent asked.

"No time." She responded uneasily, uncomfortable as to where the conversation was going. She glanced at the building numbers; only half a block to go

Daria was stunned to find how much she had truly missed Trent; although he hadn't played a particularly integral part in her adolescent days in Lawndale, he had provided a soothing background noise in her life. She realised his absence and subsequent silence it had brought, had affected her.

She still had Jane, but their friendship had become strained at times. Living together had taken its toll on their friendship; endless bickering over ignored chores, the perpetual struggle to force her mouth shut over minute issues and off hand comments that had turned into petty verbal battles. She had to admit it was the lesser of two evils; dorm life with Addie was intolerable.

Her mind wandered back to the most recent altercation. Jane had forgotten about a week old tuna casserole; it was left to ferment and grow in the study. She wrinkled her nose and let out a small scoff as she recalled the stench that had infiltrated the flat and the week of airing it needed to rid the place of the ghastly aroma.

Trent watched Daria as she thought and chuckled. "What's so bad?"

Daria shook her head and brought herself back to the cold dark street. "Living with your sister."

"She didn't decide to turn the kitchen into a homemade paint factory again, did she?"

"Not yet, although I have to ask did you ever get that stain off the roof?"

Trent shook his head a smiled. "Not entirely. So do you think you will submit your story to the magazine for publication?"

"I don't know, probably. I just don't know where I am going to have the time to get it done; I don't have a computer, and Mom and Dad won't spring for a new one until Christmas."

"There's one at the club, in the office. You can use that one." Trent offered.

"Really? You wouldn't mind?"

"Nah, I'm the only one that really knows anything about them, so I'd be the only one to use it."

"Thanks Trent."

The rest of the walk was filled with light chatter, Trent informed Daria about the bands dealings in New York. It seemed the Spiral's investment in Monique's brother's club wasn't entirely selfless; Nick had become quite vocal about his objections to living so far away from his daughter and Max's 'hard rock' attitude, had become increasingly worse; it had begun to have a corrosive effect on the band's dynamics.

"I don't know if this is the best idea, I was hoping both their problems had stemmed from a bout of cabin fever, and being closer to home might solve it." Trent deduced, as they reached the front door of Daria's apartment.

"Here's hoping, too bad if it doesn't." Daria replied as she fished through her bag for the keys.

"Hmm." Trent reflected as he watched her unlock the heavy door.

"Well, thanks for walking me home. I would have been fine by myself." She reasserted as she turned back to face him.

"Yeah, but you never know." he replied sagely.

They stood on the threshold of the apartment gazing at each other; Trent amazed at the progression of the girl he had come to know to the woman that stood before him; unable to define the warm sensation her presence conjured. Daria denying the resurgence of affection that curled inside her.

"I guess I should get to bed, I have class in the morning." Daria spoke with little conviction, Trent's dark eyes had her entranced, she found herself unable to move; she had been thrust back into the days of her adolescence.

Trent nodded slowly and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I should get back to The Globe. Unlimited alcohol and the guys don't sound like a promising mix." He chuckled, stepped in closer and closed the small gap between them.

Daria felt his palm cup the small of her back; his long fingers brushed her spine, she could smell the clean aroma of his aftershave as he bent down.

"Goodnight." he purred in a hushed whisper, as his lips lightly grazed her soft cheek.

Daria felt her body give an involuntary sigh. "G'night." She managed and found her eyes drawn to his tractor-beam gaze as he straightened. "Thanks, see you." she finished and quickly entered the apartment.

Trent watched the woman's hasty departure with a bemused smile; she had felt it too, the charged atmosphere, the electrical jolt that jumped between them as his lips touched her cheek. He shook his head and made his way back to the elevator.

Daria peered through the peephole and watched the tall figure's retreat. She slid the small viewing glass shut and rested her head against the cool wooden door; her hand slipped down and found the lock. The buzz of electricity that had coursed through her veins as his warm breath passed across her cheek had intensified as the short stubble that graced the base of his chin brushed her skin; the predecessor of the innocent kiss.

"What the hell am I so worked up about? this is Trent. Nothing happened. It was a goodbye kiss on the cheek, between two friends, that's all just a simple kiss." she mused out loud.

As it played back through her mind, she knew it wasn't so simple or innocent. The seductive tone her mind had given his breathy voice wasn't wholly imagined, she could still feel the gentle pressure his hand had given as he drew her in. The unspoken words his dark eyes conveyed...

Daria knocked her forehead gently on the door. "Dammit."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Daria awoke with a start to the high pitched screech of her alarm clock; she glared at the contemptuous object and batted a sluggish arm out. She knocked it to the floor and brought silence to the room. She rolled in her duvet; cocooning herself from the outside world, her body begged for more sleep. The darkness and comfort provided by the plush blankets lulled her back into a dream like state; her mind began to skate the edge of consciousness and drifted back to the previous night replaying the events once again.

A loud crash from the floor above abruptly brought her back to reality. She groaned loudly in protest as she flung the covers off her and indolently rose from her bed, to explore the source of the noise.

The light smack of her bare feet on the wooden stairs resounded through the apartment. She reached the top level and found the source of the crashing, was her flatmate's enthused foraging through the kitchen cupboards. Daria sidled up to the kitchen bench and slipped into a bar stool, she peered down to the floor on the opposite side of the breakfast bar.

"Jane? What are you doing?" Daria queried through a stifled yawn.

Jane's head popped up, a bright smile radiated from her face. "Good morning sunshine." she beamed. "I didn't wake you did I?"

Daria was too tired to call her on her chipper attitude and responded with a non committal shrug. Jane stood and observed the mess of kitchen appliances on the floor.

"I'll clean it up before you get home from classes, scouts honour." Jane smiled and held her hand up in a salute.

"You weren't in the scouts." Daria deadpanned.

"True and it could be argued that I'm not particularly honourable either. That kettle was busted wasn't it?" Jane pointed to Daria's left; a white plastic electric jug sat on the bench, its lid had been dismantled and its cord severed.

"If it wasn't before it sure is now." she muttered as she rose and shuffled over to the coffee machine; one thing that you could rely on if a Lane was awake, even at an ungodly hour of the morning, there was always a fresh brew of strong hot coffee awaiting consumption.

"You haven't seen my heat gun have you? Oh that reminds me, your laptop is completely beyond repair, right?"

Daria nodded slowly. "Why are you so lively today, have you slept? You are aware it's six thirty...in the morning..."

"No rest for the wicked. An artist cannot deny her muse -- I went to the opening of a Dali exhibition last night, the stuff that man produced; a psychologist's wet dream." She shook her head in disbelief.

"That doesn't explain the appliances."

"I'm going to create a sculpture, all those melting clocks...." Jane drifted off.

"And you want my old laptop...?"

"I want to melt it down, that's where the heat gun comes in, if only I could find it..."

Daria drained the rest of her coffee and set the empty cup into the sink. "Well do you think you could take a look through that story for me please? I need to have it edited and rewritten kind of soon."

"Sure, sure, no problame-o" Jane responded. "Just leave it on the bench I'll read it in my coffee break." Jane replied. She waved an arm in the direction of said bench and crouched back down; immersing herself into the deepest parts of the kitchen cupboard.

Daria returned downstairs to ready herself for the day. As she left she set the black note book on the bench and bid farewell to Jane.

***

Thick purple smoke billowed from the smouldering remnants of the old kettle; it came thick and plentiful and filled the kitchen in a matter of seconds. Jane gagged on the noxious fumes, coughing violently she dumped the burnt plastic lump into the sink and fled the kitchen. She gasped for much needed air, when she reached the balcony and was clear of the smoke, then collapsed into one of the lawn chairs.

"I think I may need more ventilation." she choked.

She glanced at her watch and stifled a yawn; she had been on the go for thirty six hours and she could feel her body becoming immune to the effects of caffeine in the copious amounts of coffee she had drank. She sighed as she rose and made her way back to the kitchen. She opened every window on her way; Daria would definitely kill or at the very least, maim her, for conducting her art experiments inside. As she arrived at the kitchen to survey the damage her eyes rested on Daria's book. She picked it up and leafed through it.

"Now is as better time as any."

She returned to the balcony, slid into the chair and made herself comfortable. She opened the notebook and read the first sentence out loud.

"The following is not your average teen melodrama; these are the musings of a misery chick they should not be read by anyone..."

Jane's eyelids drooped heavily obscuring her vision, her head nodded rhythmatically as her grip loosened and the book fell forward resting on her chest.

When she awoke only the ghost of the day's sun lingered across the top of the surrounding buildings, a cool breeze whipped around her, it forced an involuntary shiver. Jane felt the book drop to the floor as she stood.

"Oh dammit the story, I should have enough time to read it before..." Jane muttered, cut off by the sound of the front door as it opened and closed. "Shit."

She picked up the book and walked into the lounge room, arriving there the same time as Daria.

Daria stopped and saw the book in Jane's hand. "What did you think?" she asked hesitantly.

"It was...uh... great, the inside look into Daria's mind; musings of a misery chick, brilliant." Jane smiled hoping she wouldn't have to provide an in-depth review.

"There's...nothing you want to... say?"

"Nope, honestly it's great."

"Ah, great. Thanks for reading it."

"Don't mention it." A twang of guilt plucked deep in the pit of Jane's stomach.

Daria sniffed lightly and frowned at Jane. "Do you smell something?"

"Nope, nothing."Jane replied quickly. "I should really get back to my sculpture." Jane made a hasty retreat to her room.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Daria entered the quiet club and glanced around hesitantly. Trent had told her she could use the computer in his office; she hoped he had actually remembered, given that Trent had offered her the use of the computer the week before. She glanced at her watch, it was a little after nine thirty, she scrapped the hope that Trent would remember his invitation and hoped that he was awake; the door to the club _was_ open...

"Daria, hi." Trent called from behind the bar. Daria strode over and raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"You're awake! The day of reckoning is upon us." She said sarcastically; her voice was in perfect monotone, but Trent could distinguish the surprise. He chuckled softly.

"I'll let you know when the horsemen get here." He smiled and pointed to the open door behind him. "I have to learn how to change the kegs and do an open, Dion's teaching me before he leaves this afternoon. You're here to use the computer?" He asked as he restocked the condiment trays.

"Yeah. I can come back..." She said hesitantly, as she pointed her thumb to the exit.

Trent shook his head and smiled. "Don't be silly." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bulky set of keys; he thumbed through them and selected a small red one. "Here's the key, the office is upstairs, I'll be up in an hour or two."

"Thanks." Daria replied as she took the key and proceeded upstairs.

***

Daria glanced around the 'office', it was situated behind the bar on the top level dance floor. The modest sized room was filled with general bar paraphernalia, a small sofa bed and a large wooden desk; littered with papers and record books. Daria cleared a small space and turned the computer on. As she waited for it to boot up, opened her backpack and retrieved her notebook and the folder containing all of the editor's notes. She flicked through the top few sheets and sighed as she read them; _'Good- needs more detail', 'Scene with Tom is great- elaborate', 'Brittney character; too much of a cliché, is she real?' _Daria smirked at the last comment; Brittney was real, although there were quite a few who were willing to bet two large parts of her weren't.

The notes went on, the editor seemed to have concentrated mostly on the Tom experience; something that Daria wished to forget, not relive and have published. She had struggled with the content of the story all week, many drafts had been written, scrunched up, discarded, and then retrieved. She would have quit if she weren't contractually obliged to submit the story; she was having trouble deciding how to start the story, it seemed stupid to start with the night of prom without introducing the characters properly.

Daria groaned and pushed the notes away, as she turned to the computer and opened the word processor. The white page glared at her as she began to type.

***

The strong aroma of coffee wafted into the room and teased Daria's senses. She looked up to see Trent's tall form easing his way over to the desk; he smiled and offered Daria a steaming mug. She took it gratefully and gave him a frustrated smile.

"Thanks Trent." she said wearily.

Trent sat on the edge of the desk and raised a concerned eyebrow. "Are you okay?" He asked as he took a long sip of his coffee.

Daria leaned back into the computer chair and drank from her mug; she looked at the computer before directing her attention back to Trent. "Yeah. I'm stuck." she replied and motioned toward the screen.

"Well, what do you have so far, can I read it?"

Daria shrugged. "Knock yourself out."

Trent stood and pulled another chair to the desk; he looked at the screen and laughed.  
_  
'Chapter One'_

"That's it? You've been up here for three hours." he chuckled.

"I told you I was stuck, I just don't know where to start, they seem to want me to focus on the Tom thing and the night of prom." She grimaced.

"Hmm, are you sure you remember that night?" he interjected with a smirk.

"Funny. No, I just don't see the point in starting a story at the half way point; why bother writing it if there's no connection with the characters. It just comes off as a piece of smut."

"True. Well where was the beginning. What was the event that caused your life to head into that direction?" Trent turned Daria and smiled as he watched her brow furrow as she pondered.

Daria took another sip of her coffee and stared at the computer screen, as if it would miraculously provide her with her answer- it didn't. She looked back to Trent, and was caught off guard as his dark gaze met her own; it sent a small thrill through her.

"Well, I ah..." Daria started hesitantly.

Trent raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"I guess when I moved to Lawndale; the day I met your sister." Daria replied.

Trent smiled. "Then that's where you should start and work from there."

_'It made logical sense'_ Daria thought. "Thanks Trent." She smiled.

Trent nodded, glad he was able to ease some of Daria's stress; she had seemed so wound up since she started to ready the story for publication, well more stressed than usual; he got the feeling college life wasn't all that Daria had hoped it to be. He smiled and stood.

"No probs, glad I could help. Are you going to be okay now?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Cool, hey do you mind if I crash out on the lounge while you work- I'm beat." Trent stretched and yawned as if to emphasis his point.

"Sure." Daria shrugged and watched as Trent cleared the sofa bed of the clutter and lay down, then directed her attention back to the computer and began to type.

_'Chapter One- Esteemsters'_

_I sat in the back seat of my father's Lexus as he drove my sister and I to our new school, watching the suburban scenery flash by. My father's voice drifted through the moronic pop song that blared over the radio._

_"...I realize it's not easy moving to a whole new town -- especially for you, Dana, right?"_

_"Did we move?"..._

***

Daria hit the save button, happy with what she had; three chapters, detailing her first few months in Lawndale. It was still at least two thousand words short, but it was enough for the day; she was mentally exhausted. She sat back in her chair and glanced over at Trent, she found herself unable to tear her eyes away from his sleeping form and felt the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest lull her into a dream like trance.

"Finished?" Trent asked, his voice reeled her back from her reverie.

Her eyes went wide and she felt a warm flush wash over her face. "Ah, yeah." She mumbled and turned back to the desk to collect her things.

Trent smiled; he had been awake for some time and had watched her as she worked. He was glad he had been the one to catch her off guard, he had the feeling if Daria had caught him openly watching her, her reaction would have been fairly similar. He sat up and walked over to the desk.

"Cool, can I read it?"

Daria stood and looked at Trent. "When it's finished?" she offered. "It's not done yet."

"Oh, that's cool." He shrugged.

"Well, I better get going. It's my night to cook, providing Jane's going to be home."

"I think she said she's going to be going to some exhibition the next town over."

"Oh, well meal for one. I suppose." Daria replied as she walked toward the door.

"Do you want some company?" Trent asked coolly.

"No it's okay, I have to study anyway. It's probably a good thing I have the place to myself, Jane's getting back into the power tool phase." Daria opened the door and turned to go.

"Daria, wait..." Trent started. Daria turned and eyed Trent as he raked his fingers through his tousled hair. His eyes darted around the room, before locking on to Daria's. "I..." He inhaled deeply and crossed the small space in a few steps and now stood by Daria's side.

He gazed into her deep brown eyes, eyes that had him transfixed, each and every time he searched them. He watched as she drew a ragged breath and waited expectantly for him to continue.

"I just..."

"Yo, Trent!" Jane's voice echoed through the room. Both Daria and Trent turned to see her enter the dance floor. "There you are, Dion's leaving now; he wants to go over everything one more time before he goes."

"Sure." He looked back down at Daria. "See you tomorrow?"

Daria nodded. "Sure."

She watched him cross the floor and exit the room; she caught the look he threw Jane as he passed.

Jane smirked at Daria, her eyebrows raised. "What was that about?"

"I don't know." She shrugged and followed Jane downstairs.


End file.
